The Storm We Could Not Escape Writing Analysis
Surviving the wrath of a tornado is a horrifying experience because we had no way of
knowing when and where it was going to strike.
It was in July and the year was 1981. My family had just moved to Oklahoma due to me
father’s job transfer. Our new home was a modest one, and not very protective to the elements
of a storm.
The day the tornado struck I was in my room watching television. A news report came
on saying that severe weather was approaching and that there would be a chance of tornadoes. It
was a little hard to believe because outside we were enjoying the most beautiful day since we
had moved there. The weather would turn out to be short lived. About two hours later the sun
that we had been enjoying seemed to have been swallowed up by the dark gray storm clouds.
The color of bright sunshine had been replaced with the eerie feeling of impending doom. The
darker it became outside the quieter it became. It was almost as if the animals outside knew
what was coming. It started to rain.
As the rain came down it sounded as if someone was beating on our house with a couple
of gigantic drumsticks. Every ten minutes we would get an update from the television.
According to the weatherman, the severe storm was headed our way. The rain grew more
intense. When the next update came on, the weatherman warned that a tornado had touched
down ten miles away from our home. It was then that the power went out.
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Covered in a complete blanket of darkness, my mother fumbled through the house
looking for candles. As she did, I could hear the pounding of rain turn into the hammering of
hail. Unfortunately, some items were still packed away and this included the candles. The only
light we had come from a lighter. Now that we had no electricity, we could not get the updates
from the television. We sat there to wait it out. About five minutes later the hail stopped and the
howl of the winds picked up. I could see by the change of expression on my parent’s face that
this was not a good thing. We needed to take shelter. The house did not have a basement in it so
our only option was to go outside and get into the cellar.
When we opened the front door to go outside the wind smacked us in the face. I heard
my mother scream, “Oh my God, look!” There it was in the middle of the field heading right
toward us. As the funnel cloud ripped through the field it tore up the ground like a giant weed
whacker. With the strike of lightning, you could see that it was carrying debris of recent victims
along with it. We only had a couple of minutes until it would be upon us. The soft and muddied
ground gave way with each step as we ran toward the cellar. The cellar doors are bound with a
thick metal chain wrapped around the handles. Using the rusted shovel that was lying next to
the cellar, my father broke the doors away from their hinges.
Running down the warped stairs I had to catch myself on the railing due to the slippery
mold with which the stairs were covered. We huddled in the far corner waiting for the worst.
You could tell that the cellar doors had not been open in years because of the thick smell of
fungus. The only residents to it now were the spiders that you could feel scurrying across your
feet. My back was pressed against the hard concrete wall and I could feel the cold rain slide
down into the back of my shirt. The tornado then struck our home. Although I was sitting in
complete darkness, I shut my eyes as tight as I could.
The first thing I could hear were the windows shattering as if smashed with one of me
baseballs. I was then faced with a sound I could not quite make out. It sounds similar to
someone taking bites out of a huge piece of celery. The sound was the house being ripped of its
foundation. Then the noise stopped. We sat there for what felt like hours waiting for the tornado
to come back, but it never did. A bright beam of light came through the opening left by the
cellar doors. The sunshine was back. I now knew what it was like to stand on the threshold of
The scene outside seemed like something out of a movie. The house was obliterated.
The only thing left to show a home even existed there was the torn and mangled water pipes.
Our landscaping now consisted of no more than the torn and splintered debris from the storm.
All of our accomplishments and dreams had disappeared with the funnel cloud. Even our car
was nowhere to be found. My parent’s assured me that they would buy me all new things, but
the only thing I wanted was the innocence lost with that storm.
after you read
Does the writer of the sample essay in this week’s module use at least three of the five senses? Which ones does he use?
Sight? Sound? Smell? Taste? Touch?
What is your favorite description in this essay and why?